Best Laid Plans
by tearstainednote
Summary: In another life, this could've been an epic romance. Maybe it still is. Rated for language and adult situations.
1. shadows

… _fading in, fading out_ _  
_ _on the edge of paradise_ _  
_ _every inch of your skin  
is a holy grail I've got to find… _

;;

It takes her 53 days after their first date for her to tell him she loves him. It slips out because they're laughing and she freezes as soon as she says it, her cheeks warming, but he smiles and doesn't say anything. He's heard it before and she's young and doesn't know how much weight comes with that word.

But she will.

She's quiet through the rest of their movie, embarrassed and all flushed because she can't believe she _actually_ said that. More importantly, she can't believe he _actually_ said nothing. When he drives her home, her chin's in her palm as she stares out the window into their passing city. Aerosmith's on the radio because while Josh was taking a music appreciation class, he fell in _love_ with classic rock. To be honest, all Maya knows is that the lead singer has a huge mouth and Shawn has all the albums on his phone. He glances over at her for about the eighth time as they reach a stop light, and he wants to tell her how her smile has made him crazy since the moment he picked her up from his brother's, but of course – he doesn't.

He's trying _so_ hard not to smile at the way she's absentmindedly humming along to Steven Tyler's raspy ballad even though he knows she doesn't know any of the words. "Crazy, crazy, baby, I go crazy…" When he starts singing, a smile tugs at Maya's lips finally and she looks at him for the first time since they got in the car. His fingers become drumsticks as he taps out the beat on the steering wheel, oblivious to the fact that she's watching him until mid-chorus. She's laughing because his cheeks turned red just like hers and grabs his hand off the wheel to lace his fingers with her own. "We fit, you know." She reassures him, quiet and nervous.

His hand squeezes hers. "Yeah, I know."

.

Their first big fight happens because he didn't tell her Cassie Jensen was coming over to study for finals. It's really not _that_ big of a deal since he's never said he was her boyfriend and has no obligation to tell her about other girls in his dorm, but it's kind of a slap to the face when she shows up and there's a pair of purple Vans on the floor by his bed that aren't hers.

He closes the door behind him when he sees the look on her face, silencing them in the empty hallway. When he reaches up to touch her naïve little cheek, she smacks his hand away with the anger he _knows_ just has to be building up inside her. Now he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he just stuffs them into the pockets of his jeans and awkwardly glances around the carpet beneath their feet. They're silent for a second – but that never lasts long with Maya – and he's not surprised she's the first one to say something.

"I don't know why I trust you," Her voice is wavy and frail, but the bitterness in her eyes matches the sour expression on her face. "But I do."

"Maya, I—" he pauses, the muscles in his jaw tensing as a sigh leaves through his nose. "Look, it's nothing. She has an A in organic chemistry and if I don't get my grade up my GPA won't let me qualify for the internship." His eyes search hers for softness, but they're cloudy and cold just like how she feels. "You know how important that is to me." His face softens and there's the tiniest hint of weakness in the tone of his voice. It's not often, but she's the only person he lets see him like that.

Maya's throat tightens as she pushes away everything she wants to say, but can't. "She's in a sorority and I'm still in high school." is all she can make out from the jumbled mess that is her brain right now, looking everywhere but at him. His necklace hangs low from her neck, and the silver burns her skin the more she thinks about taking it off and handing it back to him. There's fire in her chest, something she's never felt before, and a shaky breath escapes her lips as she _finally_ looks at him. "Maybe we're just in different places right now." It comes out a lot shakier than she had hoped, but the oceans in his eyes seem to fade despite his hard expression. He panics when she turns to leave, and in one quick movement he grabs her forearm before she can disappear.

"So that's it? You're just leaving." It's more of a statement than a question. He doesn't care.

"Wow, Maya," he scoffs when he releases his grip on her, arms falling to his sides in defeat. "You're right. Maybe you're just a little too immature for me."

That cuts her deep, and he _knows_ that's a low shot. But it still feels good to say it, even if he doesn't mean it. There aren't many things you can say to Maya Hart that can break her unless you mention her childhood, the words 'daddy issues', or basically anything regarding the age difference between her and Joshua Matthews. She tucks a strand of long blond hair behind her ear with a shaky hand, fighting back the tears she absolutely refuses to let him see. "Immature. Really? Wow, Josh."

He clenches his jaw at the flat tone of her voice and all of a sudden he's left standing alone, startled by the fact that watching the back of a seventeen year old retreat down the hallway just broke his heart.

They make up a few days later when they're both at one of Riley's competitions to watch her cheer. Maya sneaks off to get a soda during one of the competing teams' routines and somehow ends up with her back pressed against the vending machine and Josh's tongue down her throat before a single word is said.

From then on, that's how they apologize to each other. And she loves it.

.

"What is that?"

It's barely noticeable and if weren't for the fact that they're changing for gym right now, there's no way Riley would have ever seen it. Maya pulls of her tank top and it's this (huge) inconspicuous hickey that she spent at least thirty minutes this morning trying to cover up with concealer – no big deal or anything – right above her collar bone. It's totally innocent and, trust her, there's been worse places. But Riley didn't need to know that either.

"Huh—" Feigning innocence, Maya pulls all her hair back into a ponytail and ties it with an elastic off her wrist as she turns her back to her best friend.

"Ah-ah," Riley's got her hands on her hips in that stereotypical cheerleader pose that's become a habit to her. Maya thinks it's adorable.

She wouldn't cave in, but like, they always find out everything about each other eventually. So she does. "What do you expect? Things get heated sometimes."

Riley mimics gagging, and Maya's laughing because this is the funniest thing that's happened all day.

"Sometimes I think you forget he's my uncle."

Maya pulls that stupid crimson and gold Eleanor Roosevelt High shirt over her head, but of course Riley's already dressed and ready. They were supposed to be on the track like five minutes ago, but whatever. This is more important. She tightens her pony and leans down to tie the laces of her Nikes, shrugging her shoulders with a sigh. She feels her heart rate quicken at the thought that crosses her mind. "I love him, Riles."

It slips out – déjà vu – but she doesn't expect the reaction she gets. Riley's expression falls and her brown little puppy dog eyes light up because she's never heard Maya say that about anyone.

There's a stupid grin on her face that makes Maya roll her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like we're getting married."

The brunette's face doesn't change even as they're walking to the track to join the rest of their classmates. She's just grinning at Maya who's adamantly not looking at her.

"It's not a big deal, Riley." Or so she says. (For like, the ninth time.) She snatches a bottled water out of a cooler as the two girls come to a stop.

"Well, does he know?"

Does he know what? That she _loves_ the kid? I mean, she told him when she was sixteen that night in the car, but he never said anything so she hasn't mentioned it since. Honestly, she has lost count of how many times she's wanted to say it; Tucked up under him with his hand on her back and his nose in her hair, those moments where they're the only two people that exist in the entire world. She's come _so close_ so many times, but she's not gonna say it if he's not. That's what she'd decided.

Riley waits for an answer that Maya can't seem to give her, evident as the blond breathes a restless sigh before jogging away from her.

 _Does_ he know?

.

He takes her virginity the night she shows up at the Matthews' door at midnight, soaking wet and shaking in a dress that leaves little to the imagination. He's crashing on their couch for the week while his dorm is being exterminated, and Maya pretends not to love it as much as she does. The smudged makeup on her cheeks makes it obvious she's been crying, and she finds some sort of comfort in the worry that paints his face. It's _nice_ having someone care about her the way he does. It's quiet and everyone's sleeping, so he ushers her in and locks the door behind her. She kicks out of her shoes and loses a good two inches in height, but when she turns around to tell him what happened he's got his shirt off and ready to wrap around her shoulders.

Her eyes shamelessly rake over his chest, a nervous lump forming in her throat as he drapes the thin material of his band tee around her. He smirks to himself when he hears the small catch in her breath at his close proximity, her stomach twisting when the familiar scent of his aftershave drifts past her. It's a moment they know all too well, usually ending abruptly with Maya's nerves getting the best of her.

He knows she's a virgin and, okay, he hasn't been since he was sixteen. But it's not like they haven't come close, because it's them; Of course they have.

After Maya turned seventeen, she kept dropping hints to him until it led to one long and awkward conversation with Topanga about this 'friend' of his and how the whole age of consent thing works in New York. She's a lawyer so of course she saw it through it immediately, but whatever, he just _really_ doesn't want to go to jail.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks lowly, taking a step toward her. She's short compared to him, so she has to lean her head all the way back to look at him. It could be a pathetic reminder of their age gap, or Maya's just tiny.

She likes the second one better.

"I really thought he'd show up." She bites out, but to her chagrin it comes out weaker than she'd anticipated.

A clap of thunder startles them and lightning peeks through the blinds, lighting up the whole room briefly as Josh realizes it's Tuesday. Maya's dad _finally_ called her last week and 'scheduled' a dinner date with her at some fancy Chinese restaurant in Manhattan. He connects the dots in his mind and brings his hand to her cheek, wiping the sadness from beneath her eye with the pad of his thumb. It's soft and gentle, just what she needs right now, and her eyes can't decide between his eyes and his lips. He takes the hint and cups her face, connecting their lips with just enough force to stagger them backward slightly. Maya lets go of the fabric around her shoulders to wrap her arms around his neck, and it falls somewhere to the floor she's guessing. It's hard to focus on trivial things when he does that _thing_ with his teeth and her lip and – _ugh_.

Their breaths become louder when he snakes his arm around her back and pulls her so close against him he practically lifts her off the ground. She's so small in his grasp, firmly pressed against him and the only thing preventing skin-to-skin contact is her dress. He's playing with the zipper between his thumb and forefinger, silently asking consent. She answers when she moves her mouth over his jaw and down his neck, pushing his head to the side with her nose. His eyes close in response as he drags the zipper down its track and her knees literally waver when he bunches the hem of her dress higher up her thigh.

"Everyone's upstairs," he breathes sharply, flattening his palm against her the smooth skin of her lower back. "We can't."

Maya drags her palms over his abs to feel them rise and fall to the beat of his heavy breathing, and he almost loses it as he watches one thick strap fall to her upper arm. "We can," she says firmly, and he would be impressed by her bravado if she weren't driving him _crazy_ with her hands right now. "— and we will."

She bites her lip and he absolutely _loses_ it, scooping her up easily in one quick motion by the back of her legs and it's all a blur until she's on her back and he's hovering over her on the couch with a fistful of her hair. He's biting and sucking at her neck and they haven't even _done_ anything yet but she's about to go fucking nuts if she's not touched soon.

It absolutely breaks his heart when she whispers, "Be careful with me." And he can't tell if she means with what they're doing or with her heart because she's just so _broken_ and it's just beautiful. She's complicated and messed up in all these different ways, and it's something he never sees in the girls he goes to school with. Maya's as mysterious and colorful as the paintings she creates, multi-dimensional and everything that's wonderful with the world. There are galaxies in her eyes, and Josh wishes she could see that like he does.

He's sweet and gentle with her the whole time, and he comes with his lips pressed to her forehead and his palm cupping her cheek.

The next morning she can't stop smiling at breakfast and Riley's got one eyebrow raised at her disheveled hair and guilty expression.

They know each other way too well.

.

She's high as a fucking kite when he picks her up from school one day. A couple of her teammates were getting baked after practice and Maya's like, _really_ bad at that whole peer pressure thing.

Shawn's gonna kick her ass for smoking again.

That's the first thing Josh says to her when she slides into his truck and pops her gum because she's really sarcastic when she's high and she absolutely _reeks_ of it. "So?" she says without glancing in his direction. It's not like she's scared of Shawn, he just knows what's best for her and never lets her forget it – like, ever. But he's the closest thing she has to a dad, so she deals with it. Not only because he's been on and off with her mother for as long as she's been on and off with the asshole sitting next to her, but because she's kind of exactly like him no matter how much she wants to deny it.

"Bite me." Maya snaps when Josh fails an attempt to snatch a cigarette pack out of her hand. She peels one out of the carton and stuffs it past her lips, feeling herself for the lighter she must have left at school. He turns out of the school's parking lot, rolling his eyes at her awful choices when she holds her palm up in front of him. You have _got_ to be kidding me. She's so spoiled, he thinks as he digs in his back pocket for his own lighter and hands it to her.

She stares absently into the flame for a split second – but he notices, because he just notices _every_ little detail about her – before taking a long drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke out of her nose and into the wind. It's a sickening dull taste to her, but the rush it gives her calms her anxiety and comforts her in weird, twisted ways. She smoked a lot when she was sixteen, but stopped when she joined the volleyball team. The desire to absolutely destroy her lungs and shorten her lifespan still makes an appearance every once in a while, though. That's one thing she can always count on.

"What's the big deal?" she asks flatly, gesturing to a half empty pack of cigarettes sitting in his cup holder. "You smoke."

It's true, so he just shrugs one shoulder and merges onto the freeway. "I'm also a lot older than you."

"Bullshit." she laughs skeptically, eyeing him curiously before scooting over to the middle seat to sit sideways on her knees. He glances at her through his peripheral vision, and he can smell that familiar scent of her shampoo the second she leans in closer to him. Her glossy lips against his cheek, he raises a confused eyebrow but plays along because he's seen her like this enough times before to know how she gets – and what she wants.

"What are you doing?" he asks lowly, and she can feel his quickened heart race when she kisses the pulse point on his neck. It's a cute and gentle gesture that is _so_ not like Maya until he feels her fingernails dig into the other side of his neck. Ah, there's his girl.

She takes another hit of her cigarette and ignores his question, instead sitting back to lean against his shoulder affectionately. Sometimes he thinks she gets so touchy because of the childhood she never talks about. But he could be wrong… he wouldn't know.

"Three months, man. Three months until this shit's over." She shakes her head because she honestly can't believe that she's gonna be the first girl in her family to graduate high school in decades. "Then maybe I can make you want me."

"I do want you."

Curly blonde tendrils fallen from her ponytail obstruct her view of him until she turns her head, but she tosses her cigarette out the window and pulls her knees to her chest so she can rest her feet on his dashboard. "Clearly not as much as your little sorority girls." She says it to herself more than to him, but he hears anyway because he's always listening and it's absolutely so ridiculous that he can't help the laugh that escapes him.

"Are you… you're serious right now?" he steals glances between her and the road as he takes their exit and heads toward her house. She's analyzing her nails for no particular reason other than to look like a total bitch, and he sighs at her silence. She's freaking out over nothing, as usual, but jealousy is one of the pieces of Maya's sloppily put together puzzle, so he's kind of used to it. She's usually not this blunt about it, but considering her current state of mind, he figures it's amusing to her so he bites anyway. "What can I say, there's just something about girls with Greek letters tattooed on their tits from spring break that just drives me crazy."

Sarcasm drips from his voice and Maya glares at him, but smiles at the smirk playing on his lips. He knows her so well. When he pulls into her driveway and kills the engine, she wastes no time swinging her legs over his lap and situating herself between his abdomen and the steering wheel. His palms instinctively go to her waist, hooded eyes staring up into her hazy red ones. Even when he's staring into her soul, he still has trouble reading her.

But he's the only one she lets try.

Her mouth goes to his neck and she bites to leave her mark behind, admiring the little pink contusions as she trails open mouthed kisses up to his ear. His breath turns shallow and he slides his hand up her back, fisting the silky fabric of her shirt in his palm. "Maya—"

"Tinted windows." She interrupts firmly, and the sound he makes when she presses her hips against him sends warmth to the pit of her stomach.

He grinds his teeth and gathers every ounce of self-control he can muster to ignore her advances, even when she's digging her nails into his forearms and flattening her tongue against his skin. But when she grabs one of his hands, unfolds his fingers and sets it over her breast he fucking loses it — just like she knew he would – and sinks his hand into her hair, roughly tugging her face up to meet her lips. He holds her bottom lip between his teeth and breathes out sharply, connecting their eyes before pushing her onto her back. Any other moment, she'd be embarrassed by the triumphant giggle that comes out when she lands on the worn leather, staring up at him dreamily as he straddles her and takes off his jacket. When he leans over her, she watches her hands explore his toned arms until they stop at his biceps and she catches his gaze. She's never had anyone look at her the way he does. Not once.

"What?" she asks shyly and there's an anxious crack in her voice that she quickly covers up by looking away. He bumps her nose with his and can't stop staring at her hair splayed out on the black leather beneath her head. She's absolutely beautiful.

"I love you, gorgeous." He tells her, and it's the most honest thing she's ever heard him say. The words come out shaky, almost like they're foreign to him, but she wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls his face closer to hers until their lips are barely touching. His breath is hot against her parted mouth, his touch lighting up her skin as he inches her shirt higher up her stomach. She doesn't bother saying it back, because she's said it before and he should just know – and the way he kisses her forehead when he's got his hand between her legs tells her he does.

She's really glad her mom's not home when she strolls into the living room out of breath and sweaty with wild hair going everywhere as she pulls her shirt back over her bra. Normally Shawn would be around, but he's MIA too and she has no idea why. She tosses her backpack at a nearby chair and steals an apple off the counter, crunching into it just as her phone lights up with three missed calls.

Oops.

Riley's frantic as hell when she answers on the second ring, and Maya's got a mouthful as she says, "Sorry. I was banging your uncle." And she automatically knows something's up when Riley doesn't act grossed out or offended like she usually does and instead just tells her she needs to come over as soon as possible.

So she does because she's a pretty fucking awesome best friend.

She's at the Matthews' within like, twenty minutes and she storms through the front door like she runs the place. Which, let's be honest…

Riley's parents and Shawn are standing above a very guilty looking Lucas and Riley, who are sitting on the couch with their hands in their laps. Topanga's shouting something at them about irresponsibility when Maya's gaze is directed to her boyfr— _Josh_ coming downstairs with Auggie on his back. His hair is just as much of a train wreck as hers, but of course that's their little secret. He winks at her when he sees her and her knees nearly give out. He's playing, but she could totally take him again in the bathroom or something right now if she _really_ wanted to.

"What about school, Riley? You got into Yale." Cory points out, and evidently he's the only calm one of the three. Maya just wants to know what's going on.

"I can still go, dad—"

"How!?" It's an earsplitting shout. Topanga's small but she's fierce. "You're just gonna go to class between Lamaze classes?"

Maya's eyes widen like a deer in headlights and her head snaps from Lucas to Riley. "You… You two idiots are having a baby? No shit!" she scoffs with a grin, moving her hands to her waist in disbelief. That's the best thing she's heard all day.

"Maya." Josh and Shawn say sternly at the same time, and the latter jolts his head around to give the youngest Matthews brother the scariest warning look he's ever seen.

Riley stands to her feet and Maya can see the wet trails drying on her cheeks. Now she feels guilty. "Mom, Dad, I know this wasn't… planned. But I'm graduating in a few months and—"

Lucas rises to join her, lacing their fingers at his sides as he visibly swallows what Maya can only assume is the biggest lump he's ever had in his throat. "And I love your daughter. We'll get married and… we'll do this together." He finishes for her, and Maya's instantly jealous of the smile on Riley's face.

She's so lucky.

"That's your plan?" Shawn chimes in, arms crossed skeptically as he stares at the pair coldly with his tongue in his cheek. "You're just gonna get married and play house for eighteen years?" He approaches Lucas with gritted teeth, a scary enough display that Cory pushes against his chest to hold him back.

There are a few more exchanges of whose balls are bigger before something is said about Shawn's dad and suddenly Lucas is on the floor while Shawn's shaking his throbbing hand. Riley gasps and leans down to check on her boyfriend while Cory ushers a steaming Shawn out of the room. Maya looks over at Josh who's trying so hard not to laugh, and she rolls her eyes as she joins Riley on the floor. "C'mon, Rodeo, get up."

Lucas spits blood into his palm and rises to his feet, red in the face and seething with anger. Riley's got his bruising face in both her hands and Maya's eyes fall to her stomach. How can a baby be growing just underneath that cheerleading uniform? More importantly, how come she's finding out after everyone else?

"We'll talk more about this later." Topanga mumbles softly, refusing to look at her daughter as she slings Auggie on her hip and rushes upstairs heatedly.

"You good, dude?" Strong arms wrap around Maya's waist from behind and she can tell by his grip and the difference in his voice that Josh is holding in his own anger. I mean, the guy may be bleeding all over the carpet, but he still knocked up his niece.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." Lucas grunts as he cracks his jaw back into place. Yikes.

"That went just as bad as I thought it would." Defeat is written all over Riley's face as she plops back down on the couch and rests her chin in her hands. This girl that still puts Lisa Frank stickers on all her school supplies is going to be a mom.

Burying her red and ashamed face in her hands, Riley's sniffling into her palms and Maya and Josh raise their eyebrows in synch. Lucas sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "She's… she just— she does that a lot lately."

"I don't even know why I'm crying!" She sobs, muffled into her hands. When she raises her head to look at her boyfriend, her hair's stuck to her puffy face as she cries, "If you can't handle that after five years, then I don't know why you're having a baby with me in the first place."

Josh toys with the hem of Maya's shirt while she's trying to watch her best friend have a mental breakdown, so she smacks his hand away each time. But of course he doesn't care, so he keeps trying anyway.

Because it's them.

She's too preoccupied with biting her lip at the calloused palm that's sliding across her belly button ring to notice Riley freak out about something else Lucas says (because apparently that's gonna be a thing now) and storm upstairs presumably to her room, pleated skirt and all. He follows hesitantly because it's Lucas and he'd follow Riley to the ends of the Earth, Maya's always known that.

She just wonders if she'll ever have that.

After a little pleading and one seriously irresistible pouty lip, Josh agrees to walk Maya home – in the rain. She's laughing as her combat boots smack into every puddle on the sidewalk with a loud splash and he's following close behind her because this isn't the _safest_ part of the city. Her once bouncy hair now fell in wet strings framing her face as she circled a pole on one leg to face him again. He has the hood of his jacket pulled over his beanie and his hands stuffed in his pockets when she strolls over to him, a mischievous look on her face that is just _so_ Maya he has to laugh. "What's that face for?"

She wrinkles her nose up as she reaches for his hood and tugs it down to his shoulders. "Why won't you actually feel it?"

There are two things Maya could have meant by that, but he assumes she means the rain so he just kind of shrugs and shakes his dampening hair away from his eyes, "Maybe because I don't want to get pneumonia."

The tiny blond rolls her eyes and tugs him backwards by the leather of his jacket until he's close enough for her to wrap her arms around his neck. Naturally, he leans down to rest his forehead against hers, locking eyes with her as rain cascades around them and the continuous honking of the busy street beside them slowly subsides.

They're the physical embodiment of a bittersweet love song, frozen in time, and that's exactly what she tells herself when she gets home and sketches a couple standing beneath an umbrella in the middle of the road.

Maybe in another life.

.

So he misses graduation, but it's whatever.

He got that stupid internship so he's been in California for a while now, but Maya's not counting. Whatever, she'll get over it. They text every day and he calls when he can, but it's not the same and they both know it.

After countless nights spent studying and extra credit essays, Maya's handed her diploma and it's the second time she's smiled like this in her whole life. The first time she was looking at Josh. It stings a little bit when she walks off stage staring at his empty seat.

She's not gonna tell him that, though.

He calls her later at the graduation party the Matthews are hosting and she excitedly runs away from Riley (who's putting peanut butter on a hot dog) to a less crowded area outside. "Hello?" she says as calmly as she can, holding her phone to her ear as she shoos some classmates away. They roll their eyes because it's Maya and they're used to it after four years, but they'd be lying if they said they weren't gonna miss it.

"Hey, gorgeous." His voice sounds kind of tired and there are a lot of people talking in the background, but she'll deal with it because this is the first time she's heard him all week. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," she flushes, crossing her free arm and staring off over the Matthews' balcony. "I miss you." She swore she wasn't going to say it first, but she does and she's not sorry because she's not lying. He has to know that.

There's a pause, and then a shaky breath on his end. "I know."

She's quiet.

"I'll be back soon." He tells her, and she just kind of slumps her shoulders because she heard that like, a month and a half ago.

"Riley's getting big," she changes the subject the second she feels her throat start to tighten, "They're supposed to find out what she's having soon, but Riley wants to be surprised and Lucas doesn't. The idiots have been arguing about it for days."

He laughs and her stomach flips because she fucking misses his laugh. Especially early in the mornings when it's all raspy and hot from sleep. She plays with the necklace around her neck because it's his and it's the closest thing she has to touching him right now.

"It's gonna be a boy." He's confident like he already knows, but she rolls her eyes because she swears it's not and he's not always right.

"She's gonna have a girl, shut up."

"Someone's feisty tonight."

"You wish."

"Yeah actually."

She wrinkles her nose as she laughs and she can't stop talking about him the rest of the night. It's a nice feeling for him to be the reason for the smile on her face again, but later that night when she's wrapped up in a blanket on the Matthews' couch with tears brimming her eyes, she's never hated him more.

She hates that he makes her _feel._

.

It's been 53 days since the last time she saw him. He came to New York for a day when Auggie's dog died and the Matthews decided to have a funeral because, well they're the Matthews. Maya showed up because she loves Auggie and it's not like she has a shortage of black dresses, but it was totally a surprise to find him there.

He didn't say much – or really even look at her – during the service, but after when they were alone in Riley's room, he had his hands on her face and his eyes on hers when he told her she's all he thinks about.

53 days later, she wonders if that's still true. She can still feel the ghost of his lips on her skin and it disgusts her how much she misses him. She just misses stupid things like his horrible driving, listening to him play the drums even though she's trying to sleep, his gross sloppy kisses when he's been drinking.

It all hits her one night in her room when Shawn catches her crying.

If there's one thing Maya absolutely refuses to do, it's let anyone see her cry.

But she's sitting with her knees to her chest on the floor next to her bed with her hair up and fallen pieces sticking to her red face. She hadn't even heard him come in, but suddenly the bed dips beside her and there's a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"What's this about?"

She wants to laugh so she does, but it's weak and broken and she sniffles before replying, "What do you think?"

Shawn breathes a quiet, knowing sigh as he sinks from the bed to the floor beside her. "Oh, kiddo—" he takes her head and brings it to his shoulder and she lets out a sob as she sloppily wipes at her face with her sleeve. "Love bites when you're young, doesn't it?"

She just nods and he shakes his head. "Well, I wish I could tell you it gets easier."

"He forgot about me." Her voice is shaky and haunted by something Shawn can't see. No one can except Maya.

"I have known that kid his entire life, Maya," he says quietly, brushing the hair from her face so he can see her eyes. They're sad and missing something. He recognizes it well. "I watched him grow up. He was sheltered and afraid of change at first, a lot like Cory, but he had a wild and thrill seeking side like Eric. It just took something to bring it out."

She lifts her head from his shoulder and furrows her brows, "Like what?"

"You."

.

Maya's closing down the music store when she _finally_ sees him. It's been over four months since she's seen his face in person, and she wouldn't have noticed him if it hadn't been for the little bell on the door alerting her of his entry. He freezes at the chime as she looks his way, stuffing his hands in his pockets nervously as she gives her back to him and continues restocking a greatest hits shelf.

"Aerosmith, huh?" he chimes in when he sees what's in her hand. A soft chuckle escapes him at the memory of the first time she said I love you, young and foolish in his car. She's way too good for him.

"If you came here to talk about music, we open tomorrow at nine."

There's venom and ice in her tone, but he shakes it off because he's used to it and just steps closer to her. "Maya—"

His hand suddenly on the small of her back is enough for her to jump away, fiery eyes staring up at him with a warning he knows all too well. "Don't!"

His tongue in his cheek, he runs a hand through his hair and thoughts flood his mind of what he should say. Should he even bother explaining himself? It's snowing outside, yet somehow it's colder where they're standing. Maya purses her lips in defiance and a familiar shiver runs down her spine when he comes up behind her. "I had to figure some things out for myself."

"Oh, you had to figure things out for yourself." she echoes, amused, moving to the next isle. He stays put, but moves to where they can see each other over the short kiosk between them. "Why aren't you still figuring things out? Why come back?"

He pauses, and there's a short frustrated sigh before he says, "Because you're here."

She freezes, eyes on Justin Timberlake's face on the album in her hand. She swallows the lump in her throat and stacks the rest of the copies behind it before she clears her throat and walks around the kiosk to his side. He's silent, watching her as she closes the distance between them. With a shaky hand, she reaches up and touches his silky hair, watching the tendrils move between her fingers. Flashbacks of sweaty nights gripping his hair and clawing at his skin filled her conscious, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as her hand falls back to her side and her eyes meet his. "You had four months, Josh."

"Maya, I—"

" _Four_ months!" she interjects, louder and more deliberate. He's stunned, and he can hear the anger seething from her tone. "I didn't ask for much. I just wanted _you_." Her voice breaks at the last piece of her statement, and she breathes a sob as her eyes chase his.

"Maya, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh is that right?"

"Can you just—"

"Why can't I just quit you, huh? Why have _you_ been the object of my affection since I was thirteen?" She takes a step back, shaking her head as the last decade of her life flashes in her mind like one of those old film reels.

"I never meant to hurt you."

He barely gets it out before Maya's tiny palm collides with his cheek, a loud smack echoing throughout the empty room.

Stunned, he reaches up to rub the soreness from his reddening jaw before looking back at her. There's a certainty about her expression that shows she's not sorry, but he can see the worry behind her eyes about his reaction. He licks over his lips and just kind of grabs her wrist firmly, pulling her closer to him. He catches the little breath she intakes sharply, cocking his head to the side as his eyes alternate between her nervous eyes and her shaky lips.

And so he kisses her.

Because it's them.

.

… _to be continued.  
maybe._


	2. anchor

… _we keep this love in a photograph  
we made these memories for ourselves  
where our eyes are never closing  
hearts are never broken  
time's forever frozen still…_

x

"Stop." He sort of grunts and stills his hips, which isn't what she meant at all, and the whine she makes as a result is kind of embarrassing. "Don't kiss me like that."

Josh pushes up onto his arms and stares down at her like she'd just told him his cat died. "What?" Like _what?_

"You kiss me like that then you're gone for months." she tells him, slipping her fingers into the silky hair at the back of his neck. Is she serious?

 _Now?_

He's at a loss for words because she's literally been doing this all week. Ever since Maya left her handprint on Josh's cheek last week at the music store, she's been lost in this whirlwind of trust issues that Josh can't seem to bring her out of. Granted, he understands. Leaving her here was fucked up – not that he's admitted that to her at least ten times now or anything – especially since he knows how untrusting she is of the male population.

But she has every right to be, and that's exactly what she'll tell you.

He kind of shakes his head and moves the hand that'd been at the side of her neck to her hair as he buries his face in her shoulder. "Just stop." He pleads, in this sort of breathy whisper that makes Maya's heart fall to her stomach.

She smiles because she's Maya and she always wins, but he shows her later just how in charge he really is.

And she's not complaining.

.

This thing goes on for a few weeks where they're not really back _together_ per se, she just sleeps with him sometimes because she has the self-control of a rabbit when it comes to his stupid leather jackets and dirty black pickup truck that he practically lives in.

The sun pries her eyes open one morning and there's a large hand on her stomach and soft snoring in her ear, and she's had some crazy nights but she's pretty sure she didn't fall asleep with Josh in her bed. So she kind of elbows in his side and he groans into her hair and furrows his eyebrows. – _Ow_.

"Why?" he grunts, rubbing his eye lazily.

"What are you doing here?" She doesn't even hesitate. It'd make him laugh if his rib cage wasn't on fire.

He rolls onto his back and blinks away the fuzziness from his vision, the subtle glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across Maya's ceiling slowly sharpening into view. "Shawn let me in. You were already sleeping."

"Number one, that's kind of really creepy and number two, never _assume_ I want you in my bed."

"You've wanted me in your bed since you hit puberty."

"You're an ass."

Josh kisses her cheek before rolling off her queen size and honestly he's like so smug it's annoying. She shamelessly watches him pull a pair of jeans he'd left in a pile on the floor over his boxers and use his hand to fix his hair. He sees her biting her lip in the reflection of her vanity mirror and smirks at her as he buttons his pants, to which she just rolls her eyes and sits up on her knees. "Can you not be cocky for like, five minutes?"

He purses his lips in thought as he spins around to face her, and she grabs him by the belt loops before he can respond. When she tugs him to meet her at the edge of the bed, she pouts at their difference in height and he gives her a knowing laugh. "What's that? I can't hear you from all the way up here."

She wrinkles her nose and wraps one arm around the back of his head and _God_ she's in love with him. So what is she waiting for? He kisses her and it's gentle and it awakens the part of her she never revisits – that little heart-eyed fourteen year old girl she used to be, following Josh to college parties like a stalker and jumping on his back to steal his acceptance letter to NYU. In a way, she guesses she's always gonna be that girl when it comes to him no matter how old she gets, and no matter how hard she tries to convince herself she can live without him.

She doesn't even remember a life without him.

But it was never a mistake.

None of it was.

Maya knew when she was ten years old she was going to fall in love with Joshua Matthews one day. He'd trotted down the staircase at Riley's grandparents' house on Christmas morning in all his messy haired, thirteen year old, ninja turtle pajamas glory. But she ate it up because he sat next to her on the couch the whole time, even when Eric and Morgan fought in front of them over who the biggest box under the tree was for.

"It's common knowledge mom and dad love me the most, weasel."

"You _can't_ call me weasel anymore, Eric! I'm 23!"

Josh absentmindedly pigged out on caramel corn because he heard this same argument every single year, but it was Maya's first Christmas in Philly and this was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen.

She wished she had brothers and sisters.

"Do you talk?" He'd asked her once he became annoyed by her silence.

"Do you ever chew with your mouth closed?"

And that's the moment Joshua Matthews knew Riley's blonde friend was special. He didn't know anything about her then, but his mom told him to be extra nice to her since she couldn't spend Christmas with her parents.

And that was the first of many sarcastic comebacks uttered from the broken smile of Maya Hart to the shamelessly in love Josh Matthews. Later, he pecked her lips under a mistletoe hanging above the break in the stairs because she told him she didn't know what it was.

Even though she was lying.

It's short and she barely had the time to process what happened, but he smiled at her because her lips tasted like candy canes and it was _so_ much better than playing seven minutes in heaven with Alison Carter at her fourteenth birthday party.

Maya's lips ached from the sting of her first kiss for the rest of the night.

.

Riley goes into labor the same day Maya gets a letter in the mail from Hamilton. She'd applied in the winter for their fall term while Josh was out 'discovering himself' in California. Shawn's the only person in the world that knows she did, but when he asks what the envelope in her hands is for she just shrugs it off as spam and stuffs it in the back pocket of her jeans like it's nothing.

"Need a ride to the hospital, kiddo?" he dismisses it even though he suspects something is off as he snatches his keys of the kitchen island. She nods and follows him out the door, reminding herself he's just one less person to disappoint with whatever news is on the other side of that letter.

She later decides she'll blame her mom for making her such a pessimist at a young age while she's watching some muted telenovela on the waiting room TV. Shawn's sitting next to her, impatiently tapping his foot and the sound is only making Maya's nerves worse.

"Shawn, you're going to give me an anxiety attack."

He glares at her and stills his foot just as an elevator ding alerts them to an out of breath Cory emerging from the other end. Josh follows close behind him with Lucas and Riley, who's holding her bulging abdomen with one hand and clawing at her boyfriend's arm with the other. She's groaning about needing lip gloss so she can look good for the first time her baby sees her and Maya rushes to her side, handing her the Lip Smackers she _always_ keeps in her bra.

Riley hugs her excitedly and thanks her for knowing her so well, then promises to name her baby after her if it's a girl and Maya laughs because she knows Lucas would _never_ allow that to happen.

The stubborn brunette adamantly insists on holding her baby in since her mom's plane hasn't landed yet, even as she's being wheeled into delivery. Two hours later, at midnight on the dot, baby Silas Avery Friar is born with a head full of hair and his dad's eyes. Maya tears up when she sees him for the first time on the other side of the nursery window, and Josh is the only one who sees.

She holds him later once he's all cleaned off and wrapped up, and she tells him in a baby voice she's sorry he's going to get beat up on the playground for his 'unbelievably dumb' name.

"Maya, Silas was Lucas' grandpa."

"Aw how sweet, an homage to Pappy. Tough luck, kid."

Lucas rolls his eyes and tells Riley Maya's never going to babysit.

The whole way home, Josh is quiet and Maya fiddles with the envelope that'd remained hidden and unopened in her back pocket all night.

"What's that?"

She's silent.

"You've been staring at it since we left the hospital. What is it?"

"Nothing." she lies.

"Maya—"

"Whatever's in this letter could either change my life or ruin this day. If I don't open it, I won't steal Riley's thunder. If I don't open it, nothing changes. And if I don't open it… nothing can disappoint me." She cuts him off, sadness hidden in her tone, and she brings her fingers to the edge of the envelope as though she plans to tear it in half. Her movements halt as though they physically _can't_ , and she just sighs.

When they reach a stop sign, Josh takes it from her before she can make a rash decision. He _knows_ her. She'll throw it out the window if she can't bring herself to rip it in half. He won't let that happen, _whatever_ it is.

She protests at first, but he fights off her efforts to get it back and rips it open. When he pulls out the paper inside, the words Hamilton School of the Arts is printed in beautiful calligraphy across the top, and he looks at her with something she can't explain written on his face. Her heart sinks as he unfolds the letter, sitting back in her seat as she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in.

Her eyes fall shut at his silence.

 _Say_ something.

"This—This school's in London."

"Yeah."

That's all her vocal chords allow her to say. She's never felt her body this tense before.

She hears him let out a breath and he drops the letter in her lap. The sound of the crinkling paper startles her and, after a moment's hesitation, she lightly picks it up and finds the beginning of the first paragraph.

 **Dear Maya,**

 **Once again, we thank you for your patience in waiting to hear about your admission status for The Hamilton School's Lila Sullivan Walker Young Artists program. At this time—**

Her eyes close. She _can't_ read anymore.

" _At this time_ ," she begins to read aloud to herself, her tiny voice wavering. She gathers whatever courage she _knows_ she still has and focuses on the tiny print that comes next. "… _we are pleased to report that you have been selected as a finalist for the fall term admissions cycle_."

Her jaw falls slightly in disbelief as she stares at the paper in her shaky hands. "I—I got in." Her shock falters and turns into an excited smile as she repeats, "I got in!"

"Congrats, gorgeous."

There's pain in his voice. Maya chews her bottom lip and swallows the lump in her throat as she relaxes her arms, moving her gaze from the paper that sealed her fate to him. "Josh—"

" _Don't_. I'm happy for you." He turns toward her and she swears for a second she can _almost_ see a tear in his eye. Josh never cries.

She half smiles and both their eyes find the words United Kingdom printed beneath the school's emblem.

.

"She'll stay if you ask her to, y'know." His brother tells him the next day when they're the only ones left in the living room.

Josh catches the ball he'd been tossing in the air and doesn't lift his head off the back of the couch. "I know."

.

"What do you _mean—?_ "

They're fighting again. Riley's got her ear pressed against her own bedroom door trying to listen but everything's surprisingly muffled for how loud they are.

Their sentences are broken the further they move away from the door, and she suspects Maya's pacing around the room while a frustrated Josh is sitting at the bay window with his head in his hands.

"What are we then?" she hears, followed by an almost deafening silence.

She hears a pained sigh but can't decide which one it came from. And then, footsteps. Closer and closer toward the door until they make Riley stagger back and consider bolting for the stairs. But then they stop just as the doorknob twists and there's a crack in the door. Light spills from the room into the dark hallway along with the foul mood that'd been emanating from inside. She recognizes the larger shadow as Josh's and her heart races in her chest but she's frozen against the back wall, unable to tear herself away from this heated conversation.

They seem to be unaware of her eavesdropping, and if she's quick she knows she can easily slip away unheard.

But then, unbidden, her best friend speaks softly, "I hate you."

As soon as she says it, Riley's whole body turns cold and she's sure Josh felt the same chill. The ice in Maya's tone had been disguised by ambivalence and the long pause that followed her declaration sent out a brief but uncomfortable silence.

"No you don't." Josh's voice is much louder, much closer than Maya's and it almost makes Riley jump when she hears it suddenly. Footsteps recede from the door and she lets go of the breath she was unaware she'd been holding. She hears shuffling, a few unintelligible words exchanged and can she can see their shadows merge as though he's trying to get a hold of her. Whatever was said must break her, because Riley hears her dissolve into tears, broken sobs spilling from her as she watches the smaller shadow fight off the larger one. A moment passes and Maya's sobs become muffled, as though her face is buried.

In another life, this could have been an epic romance.

Maybe it still is.

.

This happened so fast. Like waves against rocks, it crashed their lives and left just as soon as it came. Maya packs up her entire closet and does a final walk around her room to make sure she hasn't forgot anything important.

She hears her mother's voice downstairs asking if she's ready, but she's silent. She sits on the edge of an unmade bed and the almost empty room she's staring at is hers, but doesn't feel like it anymore. The once shaded windows spilled light into the room through the cracks in the blinds, an almost humorous metaphor. Her childhood is packed into boxes and her necessities stowed away in the many suitcases she's taking 3,000 miles away.

Like a magnet, her glistening eyes find a framed photo on her bare nightstand and she lifts it with nimble fingers. She'd been procrastinating packing this last piece of her.

Josh smiles up at her from behind the glass, his arm wrapped around Maya's bare shoulder and his haunting eyes hidden beneath dark shades. It's a bittersweet reminder of how everyone's said goodbye to her except the one she doesn't want to hear it from. And when she hears her mom's impatient voice again, she swallows the tightness in her throat away and returns the photograph to the nightstand, this time face down.

There was a time that'd been her favorite picture.

And now she can't even look at it.

.

Listening to Three Doors Down and Fleetwood Mac won't bring her back, but it dulls the pain better than any drug or alcoholic drink ever could.

Then he wakes up every morning and for a millisecond, he forgets she's not beside him. And then like a punch to the gut, he remembers.

He should've said goodbye.

.

And so he fades into the background of her life.

She meets people whose passion for art mirrors hers, and because of that they get along well. She tells them of her life back in New York (bits and pieces anyway – they don't get to know everything) and they listen because it's courteous and they can tell something's missing behind her sad blue eyes. So it's interesting. It's like a mystery.

Megan Peralta is the closest thing she has to a Riley. And since there's an ocean between her and the real one, she calls her when she's had one too many shots of Everclear. (She swears that stuff could remove paint.)

So she's standing alone by a fence with the sound of dance music playing faintly behind her, arms crossed over her chest as she struggles to stand up straight. A streetlamp hums above her as the bulb burns in and out and it eerily reflects the way she feels inside.

And then, a voice.

"Are you alright, love?"

Startled, she blinks the blurriness from her sight until she can focus (as best she can right now) on the figure walking toward her. If this were anyone else, they'd run.

But it's Maya, and she's drunk enough, so she'll bite.

"What'd you mean?" she slurs, veering to the side slightly when she turns to look at the stranger. She blinks up at them, taking note through hazy eyes of their features, and suddenly they converge into a recognizable face. "I _know_ you!" she shouts excitedly, shoving a manicured finger in their face, just barely missing an eye.

Then, a hearty laugh. "You're a bit sloshed, yeah?"

"I'm who?"

A sudden vibration in her pocket startles her and she sloppily smacks at the back of her jeans until her hands find her phone. She peels it from her pocket and blinks at an almost unfamiliar blurry name staring back at her.

 **Josh**

Her eyebrows crease and she holds the screen less than an inch from her eyes to insure she's not just seeing things.

"I'm Wade."

What?

When she averts her gaze back to the person standing next to her, the vibration in her hand stalls as though the person calling suddenly changed their mind.

He repeats himself, his deep voice laced with a thick posh accent, and he takes a small step toward her. Then, kind of shyly, he rubs the back of his neck which sinks Maya's heart because it reminds her of—

"Forgive me, I sit behind you in—"

"Principles of Animation, I know. You listen to Nirvana in your headphones during Dr. McCormick's lessons. _Loudly._ "

Wade gives her an amused laugh and looks to the concrete briefly before back at her. "Yes, well, there's not much she can teach me I don't already know." There's a pause, and worry briefly paints his face like he's afraid he's upset her. "I don't mean that in a bad way!" he assures, running a hand through golden blond locks. Maya follows his fingers as they pass through the strands and return to his sides. "I've just been doing this my entire life."

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"Does it?"

His cheeky smile lights a fire under her she hasn't felt in months, and she returns it because she feels like she has to. Maybe someday it could be genuine, she thinks.

A black Mercury pulls up beside them and when it halts, a redhead pops out of the driver's side and smirks at the pair on the sidewalk. "Ooh, who's this?" Megan inquires, but she barely gets the sentence out before Maya's stumbling in her wedges toward the car. She ignores her suitemate and instead tosses a smile over her shoulder at the man behind her. "It's been a _jolly good show, old chap._ But sadly this glass slipper's 'bout to turn back into a pumpkin."

Wade cocks a confused eyebrow and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Not quite sure that's how the story went, darling."

Megan drops her forehead to the roof of the car when Maya actually _salutes_ him, so she misses what happens next. Thankfully, Wade acts quickly as the tipsy blonde stumbles off the curb and into the safety of his arms just before she could tumble to the ground.

Mouth agape, she stares up into a pair of chocolate eyes as she struggles to catch her breath. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He nods back at her, equally stunned by their close proximity. The scent of alcohol wafts from her breath to his nostrils and he gives her quite the charming smile before setting her upright and opening the passenger door for her. His hand stays on her back reassuringly until she's halfway in the car, but he's out of sight before she even gets the door shut.

"You're blushing." Megan is _way_ too excited.

"Alcohol makes you flush."

Everyone knows that.

.

She doesn't tell anyone except her mom that she's bringing someone home with her for Christmas, but she's almost 95 percent sure she'll tell Shawn.

And Shawn will tell Cory which means everyone's gonna find out.

Which means _Josh_ will find out.

So she takes a deep breath in the elevator of the Matthews' building because this is the longest it's ever taken to get her to their floor. The plane ride was excruciating, and now this. She silently reassures herself she's nervous about seeing her family again, not just one person in particular. No, she's moved on from that. She's moved on from crying over him, she's moved on from the bittersweet dreams, she's just… moved on.

"Just relax, darling." A voice draws her out of her trance, and the handsome suited man next to her lays a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He squeezes her against him just tight enough to make her uncomfortable, and he's too oblivious to know the smile she gives him is fake.

The rock on her finger weighs her down like an anchor as the doors part and she's forced to drag her feet into the hallway. Five doors to the right and she's standing right outside her best friend's apartment, the tiniest hint of a smile finding her lips at the sound of hushed familiar voices on the other side. Calloused fingers lace with her own and the pad of Wade's thumb runs over her knuckles and finds his ring as if to remind her of something.

Funny thing is how much she doesn't care.

Riley had been the one to buzz them in, so she's who yanks the door open before Maya's fist hits the door a second time. Her excited smile is comfortable to Maya, something she's missed and she's pulled in for the world's tightest hug before anyone can see her eyes well up.

Formal introductions are made to everyone in the room, but someone's missing.

Maya pretends not to notice. It's healthier that way.

"You sound like Harry Potter!" is the first thing Riley says to her fiancée, who hooks an arm around Maya's waist as he laughs huskily and pulls her against him like the worst kind of magnet.

She shows her ring to her mom, who side-eyes this man her daughter barely knows before returning to help Topanga with dinner. And when she finally gets some time away from Wade, she's sitting at the bay window with Riley and her son, a bouncing miniature Hopalong.

"He's so big."

"A lot happens in five months." Riley says, and Maya ignores the double entendre.

Out of nervous habit, she spins her ring with her forefinger and spaces out at the bassinet in front of her, as though it's a postcard for what could be in her immediate future. An uneasy feeling washes over her and her face warms with apprehension, and she's so zoned out she misses Riley's question.

"What?"

"I said how long have you even known this guy?" Riley's being super best friend again. She misses this.

She misses a lot of things.

"We met in September."

"Three months?" It's not as condescending as Riley wants it to be, Maya's sure, but there's not a single condescending bone in Riley's lanky little body.

"I love him."

 _Lie to her again, Maya._

But she doesn't get the chance. Silas gurgles out what could be a happy giggle and both girls look in the direction of the door as an all too familiar figure walks in. His alarmed expression matches Maya's but both look everywhere but at each other. He says something to Riley, but Maya's too entranced by hearing the sound of his voice again to even listen.

She pieces it together and realizes Topanga needs her for something, so she slings the baby on her hip and wordlessly leaves the two of them alone.

The air suddenly chills.

He's the first to say something, because… he doesn't know.

"Do you talk?"

She wants to laugh at the cliché or whatever and the memory it induces, but she doesn't because there's nothing funny about this at all. Instead, she uncrosses her legs and rises from the bay window seat, folding her arms across her chest in a subconscious attempt to hide her ring from his sight.

"It's been a while."

"Sure has."

And, another cliché.

Followed by silence. He stares over her head because he can't really look at her right now, but the tightness in his throat returns like a sharp knife.

Nothing else is said, and she walks out of the room just like she walked out of his life.

.

The night is a series of snapshots.

After dinner and three glasses of wine later (behind Shawn and Cory's backs of course), Maya finds herself spilling all the details of her adventures in England. From her eccentric artsy professors she hangs onto every word of, to her bubbly red-haired suitemate who reminds her of Riley in just the right ways. Wade makes a narrowed-eye note of how she avoids the topic of him almost completely, and the way he squeezes her hand _just_ tight enough lets her know.

"Get away," she tells him later, with venom in her voice the alcohol can't quite dull. And they think they're alone.

He doesn't mean to hit her, at least that's what he says. (That's what he says a lot) He doesn't like, take a swing at her or anything. He's never done that. But he argues with her when she goes to pour her fourth glass of wine and in the midst of the scuffle trying to get it away from her, his knuckles collide with the side of her mouth. _Hard._ Harder than it would if it'd been an accident.

She holds her bleeding mouth and looks up at him with teary eyes as he says through unapologetic gritted teeth, "You need to _listen_ to me."

Josh's face goes white on the other side of the wall he'd been peeking over and he watches Wade leave the room. Lucky for him. Maya's lip throbs and blood drips on her suede shoes as the last person she wanted to see that rushes to her side. She squeezes her eyes shut when he takes her face in his hands to assess the damage and when his thumb brushes against the bruising mark on her lip, her eyes fill with nervous tears.

"Come on." He tells her quietly, and when he laces their fingers to pull her away the familiarity nearly stops her heart.

Josh holds her until she stops crying, until her breathing slows down, and he can tell this wasn't the first time. Her sobs slowly dissipate until she blinks rapidly up at him so anymore stray tears won't fall. Then, with a shaky breath, she curls into a ball in Riley's bed – next to him but without touching him. He strokes her hair while he stares at the diamond on her finger.

He's surprised she doesn't stop him.

And then, hushed, she whispers, "Be careful with me." _Since no one else will._

Maya makes him feel things he…

Maya makes him feel things.

.

 **Hey there loveys. Thank you for reading! If the direction I'm taking this story in triggers anyone, I'm terribly sorry.**  
 **If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for angst. Love isn't always a beautiful journey, is it?**

 _"Kiss me back. Please, just kiss me back." Josh says against her still lips, hesitantly cupping her jaw._

 **Good things are to come, take my word for it.**  
 **And as always, reviews are appreciated!**

 **xo**


	3. sanity

**Author's Note.**

 _Okay, I know I haven't updated in well over a year. My laptop broke, I had to move, start school, and a handful of other conflicts got in the way. BUT. Thankfully, I have a new laptop now and can start writing again, and I'd love to continue this story for anyone still interested in reading it. The love for this story has been overwhelming. I didn't expect such warm and positive reviews, but I constantly reread every single one and I appreciate all of you for stopping by to tell me you're enjoying it! It's you guys that inspire me to continue it. That being said, I really love Riley's subplot in this and this chapter touches a little more on it, so I hope it's something you'll enjoy. If you're a fan of riarkle, you're in for a ride. If you're a fan of rucas, don't give up hope yet. And, of course, if you're a fan of joshaya (obviously) you're gonna love this one. Okay, enough of my rambling. Let's get this show on the road._

 _All mistakes are mine._

.

 _Remember all the things we wanted?  
Now all the memories are haunted.  
We were always meant to say goodbye…_

 _x_

Riley doesn't want to marry Lucas.

Christmas has faded into the cusp of New Year's and the festivities have dwindled, December chill evident by the wispy silk breaths that fall from her sleeping infant's lips and into the pale night air. Watching the lines of his face crinkle in his dreamy state keeps her calm as she waits for the cold streams on her cheeks to dry. This isn't fair to him.

Neither of them.

A soft whine interrupts her self-chastising thoughts and with a gentle pat of her palm to his backside, her baby silences again and she's left with the haunting silence of her mind.

The distant calls of birds is as much a looming promise of morning as the soft pink glow of the sky as the moon prepares to retire, peeking lazily at her from between the awnings of two skyscrapers in the distance. It's peaceful and serene in these early hours, when the world is still asleep and absent of judgment and she can be alone with her poor decision making skills.

Ascending footsteps on hard concrete tickle her ears and with an anxious gulp, her neck cranes around the edge of Silas's puffy hood until her eyes land on Farkle's shadow slowly fading into sight from the dimly-lit doorway. "Riley."

Relief escapes her in a breathy sigh and she smooths her palm over her son's bulky coat to ensure he's warm. "You startled me," she whispers, fully aware that the distance between them and the whistling wind more than likely prevents her visitor from hearing her.

"It's freezing, you shouldn't be out here."

"Thanks dad."

Farkle responds with an eye roll as he crosses the remaining distance between them and awaits her impending explanation. He tightens his unzipped blouson and buries is hands into the warm fleece pockets, pretending not to notice the gleam of a wall light reflection on the suspicious trails beneath her eyes. It's too early to be Pluto right now.

"Little man was fussy, and I didn't him want to wake everyone so—"

"Coming up to the roof in a twenty degree climate would surely calm him down." He precedes, matching her amused smile. Silences surpasses both of their urges to speak and he watches as her slender, manicured fingers instinctively catch a slipping pacifier from her baby's mouth until Silas suckles it between his gums again. "We should really get inside."

"I don't want to see that guy. He's on the couch." Didn't he see him on his way up? The ice in her tone reflects her urgency to avoid crawling into bed with Lucas, stare at the sleeping face of a man she can't bring herself to love the way she did when she was sixteen. She still does – she always will – but there's something… different now. Something unexplainable.

"Wade? Why is he on the couch?" The smoothness of Farkle's voice warms her chilling features and the muscles in her face relax from her previous thoughts as her eyes roll.

"Fighting with Maya."

"Again?"

A beat. Riley's best friend radar has been off the charts these past few days, and she's ashamed that she's been too caught up in her own misgivings to pay attention to a screaming Maya. She should have her friendship rings taken from her and incinerated. "I'm worried."

Farkle's wary half smile screams "Me too".

.

She wakes too quickly.

Maya's eyes snap open and alert blue irises dart around the room, across the textured ceiling to the spinning blades of a fan that doesn't provide nearly enough soothing sound to keep her calm. She blinks away the sleep and lets her eyes adjust to the brightness of the guest room. The hand under her pillow glides over the satin sheets on the neighboring side of the bed, but the surface is cold and unforgiving, and her lips part with a sigh.

The events of last night scroll through her memory like a bad movie as she struggles to put the puzzle together in her mind. The corner pieces, she can sort out. She can arrange how she ended up alone in this bed, but she can't find the jagged pieces that explain why. The sunlight boring at her through half open blinds across the room let her know it's morning, but the alarm clock screaming beside her head could've clued her in too.

She can't wait to get home.

Home.

This is home. Supposed to be, anyway. This has been home her whole life; She spends five months in Europe and suddenly she's Jane Austen? Might as well be, she decides with a scoff as she tosses back the comforter and shuffles to her feet. She's engaged to a sharply dressed and well respected artist, she's reminded of that as soon as she takes her ring from the nightstand and slips the band on her finger. The princess cut diamond glares up at her like a gleaming reminder of everything waiting for her back in London. Her little apartment with Megan, her friends, the bookstore on Winston where she has tea in the mornings before class. The only thing still Yankee about her is her lack of an accent. And she's sure if she dives deeper into this fucking twilight zone of crumpets and Dr. Who, she'll develop one sooner or later.

Why does all of this suddenly feel so suffocating?

She forces herself to meet her reflection in the large wall mirror by the door, and can't help but be distracted by the sparkling rock on her finger as a shaky hand comes the knots from her disheveled hair. The metal is cold and hard against the pad of her thumb as she brings her hand in front of her face and spins the band with her free hand. She examines the sharp cut of the diamond, the smaller ones that sprinkle the outer edge of the band, and as much as she tries to pry her engagement ring from her finger, something just won't fucking let her.

She hates this.

There's a loud, staccato, irritating knock at the door that she swears only belongs to one person and her eyebrows sink with aggravation. Of all the people in all of the state of New York, of all the people in this house, Joshua Gabriel Matthews is the absolute last person she wants to see right now. She doesn't want to see his dumb face, or listen to his stupid advice. He doesn't have a say in her love life any more than she has a say in his.

But he sure seems to think otherwise.

She grabs a shirt from one of her bags, calls out for him to wait a second as she loops her head through the neck hole and flattens it over her naked abdomen because he doesn't get to see anymore. Ever.

She has just enough time to reach behind her and free the hair still trapped in her shirt before the door flies open anyway, and not one but two Matthews come strolling in like they own the goddamn place.

Oh, wait.

Riley's way too perky at nine, she's a bubbling ball of energy with Silas cooing on her hip as he gnaws on a rattling teething ring and stares at Maya with Lucas's eyes. Josh stuffs his hands in the pockets of his motorcycle jacket and Maya inadvertently shields her ring from his line of sight. "Can I help you?"

"We came to make sure you're awake." Riley chimes, as her son takes hold of her finger and shakes it in the air. "Mom made scrambled eggs. Or at least tried to, anyway."

"How do you fuck up scrambled eggs?"

The muscles in Riley's jaw visibly tense at the use of profanity around her son, but it's Maya and Maya can literally get away with murder in Riley's eyes, so she lets it slide.

"Have you met her mother?" Josh says, rolling his eyes and taking his newest nephew by the armpits when Riley finally releases her finger from the child's death grip. "We also just kinda wanted to check on you." The younger Matthews steps further into the room and gives Maya this look - this _are you okay_ look that makes Maya's jaw go slack. She hates that look.

She hates lying to Riley.

Silence passes, and Maya audibly swallows as her eyes dart between the oldest Matthews, baby Huckleberry, and her best friend. Then they go back to Josh. Did he say anything to Riley? He hasn't mentioned what happened at Christmas since, and she was starting to get the idea that he's letting it go. Ugh, that's too easy. She knows him better than that. It's literally impossible for the Matthews clan to give up on anything once they're upset or passionate about something.

A sigh leaves through Maya's nose and the corner of her lip tugs upwards into a half grin. "Yeah. I'm fine, Riles."

Really.

At least, she's trying to be.

Her arms relax and fall to her sides and she pretends not to notice how Josh's eyes fall immediately to the gleaming diamond on her finger.

"Seriously. When is your family gonna stop worrying about me?"

"At least some time after your funeral." She knows that was Riley's attempt at a joke, but all things considering, it's not so funny. Josh doesn't seem too amused either. Her best friend glances between the pair of them and clasps her dainty little hands together, rocking on the balls of her feet before gliding across the carpet to the door to join Josh. "Well, I'm gonna go eat the plastic my mommy's so kindly prepared for us this morning. Hope it's not all gone."

Josh snorts. That's a safe bet. Riley's candy pink colored lips leave a glossy mark on Silas's cheek before she disappears from the room, and her uncle catches the kid's gaze with a tired sigh. "I'm nothing more than a baby sitter to these people, right kid?"

Maya steps forward, relieves him of the baby and cradles him under her jaw. He's soft and warm and smells like Riley's favorite bath soap, and he coos as his little fist grips the collar of her tee, and it almost makes her think for a second she might have kids one day. Almost.

"I'm gonna tell Shawn."

It's almost like someone else came into the room, because that voice was definitely a few octaves lower and a lot more firm than it'd been five seconds ago. "What?"

"You heard me."

Silas's teething ring slips from his fingers and lands on the carpet with a loud rattle. He whimpers, but Maya doesn't lean down to get it. Neither does Josh. The staring – _glaring_ – contest they're giving each other right now would make fifth graders jealous.

"I haven't heard you threaten me with that since tenth grade."

"I'm full of surprises," he folds his arms across his chest like the cheeky bastard that he is, a playful but serious smirk playing at his lips. "Just like you apparently."

Maya's eyes turn to slits. Silas whines again, louder this time, to alert the only two functioning humans in the room of the disaster that'd just occurred. His teething ring is now on the floor, and this is a huge deal. Something needs to be done about this. Why aren't they doing anything about this?

"I know you think you have a right to judge me, for some ungodly reason, but you don't." She takes a step toward him. The baby in her arms stretches an arm toward the ground and grasps at air as he groans in frustration.

"And you really don't wanna try me right now."

Josh doesn't budge. She's like a foot shorter than him, is she really trying to be intimidating? "You're right. I don't have a right. But your stepdad does."

"It's none of his business, Josh!"

"Let's see if he thinks of it that way."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because he's hurting you, Maya!"

The combination of loud yelling and the utter despair of his abandoned teething ring lying helpless on the ground is just too much for Silas, and he erupts into a very distressed sob, writhing in Maya's grasp. "Oh great!" The frustrated blonde tosses an exasperated arm in the air and narrows her eyes at her ex-boyfriend. "Look what ya did. You made Little Huckleberry mad."

She storms past him, her loud receding footsteps down the stairs actively punctuating this conversation.

Josh runs a hand through his hair because god, she's stubborn, and closes the door behind him a little too hard.

.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said." Wade's tone of voice suggests he's already made up his mind about this. And she may have only known her fiancé all of five months, but she knows once he's sure of something there's no point in arguing.

Maya shuffles back, eyelids coming together for a second as a shaky breath escapes her. "Our flights for the third-"

"Cancelled."

"For an amateur art show?" Her unamused scoff slips out, and his eyes darken with the anger she knows he's been keeping buried the past week.

"It's a fund raiser, and they've asked me to present an award." He shakes out of his coat and perches it on the back of a nearby chair, never taking his eyes off of Maya. She sighs quietly, because this is ridiculous. How are they gonna find a flight on New Year's Eve?

"Can't you go without me?" Her hands slip out of her pockets as strong fingers pull her wrist closer to the man she wishes she loved. His breath smells like rum, and the way he licks over his lips is so handsome it almost makes her knees buckle.

His voice softens as though they aren't the only two in earshot. Fuck, where is everyone? Usually, you can't get a moment to yourself in this house. Suddenly everyone's playing Where's Waldo. "I need you there with me. I have to show off my future bride."

"I'm not a prize."

His grip tightens and her skin turns white around his tanned fingers, but his smile never falters. "You are to me, love."

She's Maya, so she yanks her arm out of his grasp and grits her teeth so hard she bites her tongue. Wade takes a threatening step forward and closes the space between them, his once charming smile faded into something almost wicked. She doesn't ask, just nods, and the metal of her ring is cold against the shell of her ear as she slips some silky blonde hair behind it.

Wade walks past her with a nod, smug and proud of himself for winning that lack of an argument. She watches his back disappear up the stairs toward what she assumes is the guest room to pack the rest of his Armani bullshit and whatever he wants her to take back home with her.

He'll no doubt forget to pack the friendship ring he insists she not wear anymore. Distracts from the real diamond, he says. Middle school silliness, he says.

Fuck him.

Fuck him and his stupid handsome smile, his haunting brown eyes and his adorable accent. She likes to think there was a time she really did love Wade.

Then the door opens, and Josh Matthews returns with Auggie, Ava, and Mr. Matthews, and she brushes away whatever shred of shame she has left. She plasters on the cutest fake smile you've ever seen as she zips up her pea coat and adjusts her knit beanie. With a breath, she rises from the bay window seat and she joins the Matthews clan in the living room.

Clasping her hands together, she scours her brain for the right words. It shouldn't be this hard to form a sentence. Nothing but jumbles, just like yesterday. What's wrong with her? "So! Bad news, el second familia."

Every head turns except Ava's, who's obviously a little agitated at Auggie for some reason by the way she's glaring into his soul. Maya takes notice, and her brows furrow briefly, but she shakes her head and gestures behind her to the forayer leading up to the bedrooms. "Wade's got this fund raiser thing at a gallery back in London that we can't miss, so it looks like we'll be leaving earlier than we planned."

"You're missing New Years?" Auggie sure sounds upset for someone who's been swept up in preteen angst the entire week and a half that she's been here. "You've been here for every countdown since I was born, you can't just leave."

"Auggie-"

"August." he corrects, firmly. Whoa, sorry.

"It's not up to me."

"Like hell it isn't."

"Josh." Cory's face kind of falls, staring at the back of his brother's head. Josh steps down off the platform and Maya takes an apprehensive step back when he comes closer. He can't... he can't do that. He just can't. She can smell his aftershave from here and that's not at all okay.

She won't admit she misses him.

It's scary the way his eyes turn to slits. He's almost never looked at her that way. Never. "You think you have everyone fooled, Maya, but you don't."

"Josh, don't." That comes out a lot shakier than she'd hoped. He doesn't seem to care.

"No. You put on this act like you're in this happy, healthy relationship with this guy that you barely know, who you know almost nothing about, and you fly out here to spend your Christmas vacation flipping through wedding catalogs with your mom to plan a wedding that you don't even want."

"Josh!" Cory might as well not even be in the room, and Josh signals that by holding up a stiff hand in his direction at the sound of his name.

"My engagement is none of your business." That's the nicest thing in her head right now. Everything else, she can't say in front of children.

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Was it my business when you disappeared to California right after I told you I loved you?" Silence. The muscles in Josh's jaw tense and she can see his eyes darken from where she's standing. "You don't get a say in who I decide to marry, just because it wasn't you."

Josh's lips part, he's absolutely fuming and trying not to show it, and he rubs the back of his neck with a slight nod as he crosses the room and leaves the Matthews apartment, slamming the door behind him. The abrupt sound makes Maya jump as she fights back the tears threatening her eyes.

"Wow," Ava raises an amused brow, nudging Auggie in the side with her elbow. "And I thought we were the dramatic ones."

.

Silver nails comb through unruly blonde hair as Maya studies her reflection. _It's even more damaged than usual, and that fucking terrifies her._

She hears a voice as she's pumping a few squirts of foundation onto her palm, but doesn't look up. The jingle of his keys gives him away, and the excited way he sets his hands on either side of her hips when he comes up behind her. Maya glances into the mirror at their reflection, just in time to see him move some sandy blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Almost ready, love?"

"I'm not going." Her tone is way more defiant than she intends, but it works. His grip on her hips loosen and she doesn't have to check the mirror to know his eyebrows furrow. He slides beside her to catch her gaze, and the way his head slightly shakes makes her swallow. Her mind's made up. She's not leaving right now. She's just terrified of his reaction.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said." She's mocking him, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. It's Wade, so she assumes it's the first one. She turns a little, and his palm falls from her hip in the process. A quiet breath later, her eyes kind of close and one shoulder lifts into a slight shrug. "I've been an ocean away from my family for months. We've barely been here a week. I'm not leaving yet."

"You have to."

"I don't _have_ to do anything."

The muscles in his jaw tense as a sour breath escapes through his nose. Blue eyes chase his brown ones for any hint of compassion, but she should know by practice that she's usually disappointed.

"Maya-"

"Wade." she echoes, folding her arms across her chest. Her fiancé pinches the bridge of his nose and she licks over her lips. "I'll fly back next week, before classes start. I promise."

"I'm sick of your empty promises."

Her jaw falls a little, and the slightest scoff emits from her throat. " _My_ empty promises?"

"This is about Beanie Boy, isn't it?"

It disgusts her that she knows exactly who he's referring to. "His name is Josh, and no. This is about me, and my friends, and my family, and my _sanity_."

She turns back to face the vanity and begins to reach for her mascara tube, but an angry hand snatches her wrist and Wade abruptly pulls her into him.

The Brit seethes at her as he grits his teeth, and Maya squirms in his grasp. "Wade, you're hurting me. Let go."

"What gave you the idea that you can talk to me like that? Him?" The skin around Wade's tight grip pales, and Maya can hear her heartbeat throbbing in her ears. She sucks in a short breath, and paws at his clutches. "Let _go_ of me!"

"Answer me!"

.

"Baby, is Silas in here?"

The sound of Lucas's voice in the doorway startles Riley, and the brunette takes a tired sigh as she clasps both hands on her hips. "I just put him down for a nap; he's been cranky all day."

"So why didn't you come find me?" Lucas takes a step into Riley's room and suspiciously folds his arms over his chest. Riley takes notice, and lets go of another tired sigh as she closes her eyes and swipes a hand exasperatedly over her forehead. "Lucas, can we not do this right now? I'm exhausted."

"Is that your excuse for everything?" For the life of her, she can't understand why he's being like this. She shuffles backward until her knees hit the foot of her bed and she sits down, glances at her sleeping son in his bassinet. "It's always not now. Later. But later never comes."

Riley doesn't have the energy for this. "I haven't even been able to find you."

There's an uncomfortable silences that passes between the two of them, and Lucas pretends not to notice the way she doesn't find his eyes. She'll look everywhere else in the room – the floor, the wall, even his chin or his forehead – but eye contact just doesn't happen. Silas coos in his sleep and the sound warms Lucas a little, calming the iciness that he'd felt before. "What's happening to us, Riley?"

It's a loaded question, and Riley's pink lips part as she tries to figure out what to say. Nothing she can think of could ever make the uncertainty of their relationship feel better.

"Hey, guys?" A quiet tapping of glass alerts the two of them to the bay window, where Farkle's trying to get in. Riley rushes over and unlatches the window, then pushes it up just enough to let him in. He crawls onto the cushioned bench with a grunt and stairs between the pair of them as his smile slowly subsides. "Am I… interrupting something?"

Before either of them can answer him with the firm 'no' that's on both of their lips, there's a loud thud in the other room.

.

A small, shaky hand covers her jaw as Maya peeks up from the floor through frayed strands of blonde hair at her fiancé. He's so much taller from this angle, and seems so much angrier. His fists ball at his sides and she searches his eyes for any sign of regret. It doesn't come.

Her palm massages the pain from her jaw but she's too scared to move it away, terrified she'll see blood on her hand. Her lip is throbbing and she's too startled to speak, so she just listens as Wade steps closer to her. He leans down, propping his arm on the wall above her head, which makes Maya wince. He doesn't budge. His breath is hot and angry as he moves her hair off her face, then whispers, "What have I told you about _listening_ to me?"

His oxfords make subtle thuds against the carpet as he moves across the room, and grabs her empty suitcase from a nearby shelf, then tosses it onto the bed. "I expect you'll be packed within the hour." He leaves without another word, and Maya watches from the floor as his back recedes from sight. She's shaking as she rises to her feet and stumbles over to the vanity. It's sad how little she recognizes her reflection, with a swelling eye and a split lip to accompany the one that's almost healed. The breath she takes in is shaky, and she has to force herself not to let it out in a sob. The tears in her eyes burn enough.

She pulls out a drawer, and begins loaded her delicates into the suitcase her fiancé had been kind enough to open for her, suddenly terrified to challenge him again. Maybe she should just do what he says. After all, she's the one who said yes.

Footsteps enter the room and she doesn't look behind her, but the atmosphere around her shifts pleasantly. The sound of her best friend's voice is comforting when she hears her name, but the hand that touches her shoulder makes her nearly jump out of her skin. She jumps backward and spins around to face the three, shiny blue eyes shifting between each of them.

"Oh my god." That's the first thing Farkle says, as he steps forward to stand beside Riley. "Maya what happened?"

Riley doesn't miss a beat, because of course not. She's Riley. She crosses her arms accusingly, and her eyes darken. "What do you mean what happened? This is Wade's doing, isn't it?"

Maya doesn't answer.

She also doesn't notice the way Lucas's hands ball into fists at his sides, but Riley does. The brunette joins him and loops a comforting arm through his to hold onto his bicep. "You have to tell someone."

"No!" It comes out way shakier than she wants it to, and Farkle scoffs. "What do you mean no? Maya, has this happened before?" He takes a step toward her, and the blonde shuffles backward apprehensively. It's like a reflex, and that's so fucking sad.

Her silence in response to his question is telling.

A subtle sniffle is the only sound that fills the room as Maya dabs a shaky finger under her eye to collect any smudged eyeliner. This is all so overwhelming, and she doesn't know what to do.

"You _have_ to tell someone." Riley repeats, slightly louder.

"Can you guys just butt out?" Maya snaps, and the firmness of her voice startles the three of her friends. She doesn't recover, doesn't budge, and instead just shakes her head and pushes past them toward the door. She doesn't get very far; Lucas stops her by grabbing her upper arm, and Maya's passive anxiety responds by spinning around and leaving a fresh handprint across his face with a loud, crisp _smack._

Shocked, Lucas immediately releases her arm and Maya – despite her slap being unintentional – unapologetically storms out. A concerned Riley lays a comforting hand on the stinging welt forming on her boyfriend's face, but he shrugs her off and echoes Maya's actions out of the room to cool off.

Tears brim the brunette's eyes as Riley moves her gaze to Farkle, because he _always_ knows what to do. He always knows what to say. He must read her mind or something, because he lifts one wary shoulder in a shrug.

This time, he doesn't.

.

"Don't make me drive aaall the way back to New York to kick this douche's ass, 'cause I will."

God, Maya should _not_ have answered this facetime. It's not a conversation she was prepared for, and face to face is even worse.

Zay's voice on the other end is not the upbeat, excitable one she's used to. "I mean it, Maya. Los Angeles is not as far away as you think."

The laugh that falls from Maya's cold lips is the first genuine one she's had all day. "Might as well be on the other side of the world."

Zay snorts, audible even through the phone. God, she misses him. Watching him on her TV screen every Tuesday night just isn't the same as spending every day with him. No one warned them about separation anxiety in high school, man. "That's rich for you to say. Surprised you actually left your fancy new life in Europe to make time for the little people."

The blonde raises an unamused brow at her phone and he smirks. Still, she runs a hand through her long locks and admits defeat. "Zay, just let me handle this, okay? I'll figure something out. You know I will. I always do."

He can't argue with that, so he just kind of nods. A beat passes. "Lucas is pissed."

Maya sighs. "Story of his life."

"When Lucas is pissed, I'm pissed."

Fuck. Can Lucas not be John Wayne right now? That's the last thing she needs. And honestly it stopped being charming years ago. It's not like she doesn't have enough of the men in her life angry about this. I mean, she's already got –

"Fuck," the curse slips out in a breathy cloud as blue eyes widen at an approaching figure. Where has he been? "I gotta go, Zay."

"Wait—"

She taps the red button before he can finish that sentence, and stuffs her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. Josh doesn't say anything to her, which is not what she expects, just blows her off and walks past her with barely a glance. Dumbfounded, Maya's brows crinkle and she turns around, staring blankly at his receding back. It takes her half a second to remind her feet how to move, and one after the other she follows him.

"Hey!" Her boots increase speed and she catches up to his much larger strides, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her. "What's your problem?"

He shrugs her hand off his arm and bites out an unintelligible remark as he pulls a cigarette out of a nearly empty carton and stuffs it past his lips.

"When did you start smoking again?"

"We don't get a _say_ in each other's lives anymore, remember?" He snaps almost immediately, the cigarette sticking out of his mouth bouncing with every syllable, and he cups his palm around the flame of his lighter to block the wind as he ignites the end of the stick. He stops walking, his back to her, and a sigh leaves him in the form of thick, gray smoke. He turns around to face her, and his jaw clenches at the sunglasses blocking her eyes. "Take those off."

She's Maya, so she cocks an amused brow and crosses her arms over her chest. "You know, I remember when you used to say that about my underwear."

Josh is unamused.

He doesn't even need to repeat himself for Maya to know he _means_ it. She glances around; they're on a sidewalk in freaking New York City, next to a bakery with countless patrons inside. She sighs, and Josh doesn't have to see her eyes to know she's rolling them. God, he can read this girl like a freaking book. Doesn't bother mentioning that, though.

"Not here," she barely whispers, and her teeth catch her lip. It's swollen, still, and _sore_ , and biting it doesn't help. But god, she just can't fucking help it when she's looking at him. All… standing there in his… stupid Aerosmith tee shirt, those obnoxious Chuck Taylors and… and that fucking _beanie._

"Fine." He responds firmly, and takes her by the hand. "Come with me."

.

"Thanks, Zay. If we find her, we'll call you back." Riley breathes into her phone, her tone worried beyond comprehension, and her thumb punctuates the call as she ends it. Her heart hurts. She _hates_ not knowing where she is, where _Wade_ is. God, she swears if she finds him first—

"Riley." A familiar voice chimes behind her, and her ponytail smacks her in the face when she spins around, startled. There's been a lot of that lately.

She catches her breath when she sees Farkle. Her phone tumbles from her hand onto the couch and, without even thinking, she crosses the room in a rush and throws her arms around Farkle's neck, burying her face in his chest. "Did you find her?"

Farkle immediately places a hand on the small of her back, his thumb absentmindedly moving along the hem of her shirt. "No. I looked everywhere."

During their hugs, this is usually the part where Riley pulls away. She _always_ pulls away first.

This time she doesn't.

Her arms tighten around him and her eyes leave damp, black marks on his shirt that she doesn't even notice when she moves her head to the side. "Oh god, Farkle, what do we do?"

A humorless, breathy chuckle escapes Farkle, and he inadvertently pulls her closer. "For once, I don't have an answer for this one. I don't have an answer for everything."

The front door behind them opens, and Lucas emerges from the hallway. He freezes in his tracks, and Riley and Farkle quickly separate.

She uses her sleeve to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Lucas." His name tastes kind of bitter when she says it – mainly because she's subconsciously saying it to remind herself of something – but she ignores it. "Did you find her?"

Lucas doesn't answer her, but he finally closes the door. The brunette's eyes fall immediately to a stained bandage wrapped around the palm of his right hand, and he walks past them to the Matthews' kitchen. A quiet, concerned gasp escapes Riley as she notices the blood on his knuckles, in the corner of his mouth, and the dark purple bruise forming on his swollen eye.

"No, but looks like he found Wade."

.

"Why is it so cold in here?"

A lamp near the door comes on with the slight tug of its chain, and Josh drops his keys onto the wooden table it's sitting on. "Because I'm rarely here."

He turns around to push the door closed, his arm outstretched next to Maya's head. His palm freezes on the white door, nearly caging her, and he smells _so good_ to her. Almost familiar… but not quite.

The proximity makes Josh swallow, and Maya's _so_ thankful for the sunglasses hiding the way her eyes fall to his Adam's apple, and watching it jump apprehensively. Fuck, this is so much harder than it has to be.

It'd been so cold in here before, and now the air has turned warmer, reddening their faces and their breath. It's just… quiet. Her lips part.

He reaches between them slowly and pulls the shades off, and Maya's silky locks fall in her face. She's never been more thankful for her outrageously long – and sometimes quite annoying – mermaid hair. It's been more useful than not lately. Her lips close tightly and she _forces_ herself to look away, clearing the tightness from her throat in a futile attempt to ease the silence.

Josh's fingers are warm and rougher than she remembers when he pushes her bangs out of her eyes and simultaneously lifts her chin. Maya's eyes, glistening with unshed tears – _fuck_ she hates being emotional in front of him. He's the last person that gets to see her weaknesses. He studies her eyes, the black one she's trying so desperately to hide, and clenches his jaw.

"Say something." _Please_. She just… can't take the silence anymore. It's agonizing. Say anything.

A pink tongue parts his lips to wet them, and his index finger follows the length of her hair down to her shoulder. He watches as his thumb curls a bright strand, and then drops his arms to his sides.

Maya's eyes close. "Please," she whispers, brows furrowing sadly as the tears that'd been threatening her eyes come to fruition. She inhales a sob, shoulders shaking.

Josh doesn't comply, but he catches her lips in his own and Maya's not in the least bit shocked. His taste is unforgiving, and she _prays_ he didn't notice the subtle whimper that slips out at the familiar feeling that swells inside her. God, she gives in almost immediately, melting into his embrace and heatedly throwing her arms around his shoulders. He's gentle, especially when his tongue parts his lips and brushes over the split in her lower one, making Maya jump slightly.

He reassures her with a hand at her back, and Maya sighs into their kiss, surrendering all her resistance and fisting a handful of his hair. She feels almost as though she's been taken over by a younger, slightly happier Maya, one she hasn't known in a long time. It consumes her, and she finds her hands slipping from his hair and running over his chest, and down the length of his abdomen. She can feel his heart rate quicken beneath her palm, and his breathing intensify to match hers.

Warm hands cease their wandering once they meet the cold metal of his belt buckle, and every hair on her arms raise. Josh pulls away, studies her eyes as they chase his, two pairs of swollen lips panting soft breaths.

Maya pauses.

"Fuck me," she whispers, barely nodding her head enough for it to be noticeable. "Please make me forget."

She's whispering so quietly it's as though she's scared someone might hear her, even though they're completely alone. It takes half a second for Josh to shake his jacket off his shoulders with Maya's assistance, and their lips find each other's again just before they fall to the floor.

God, it's wrong on so many levels. She swore so many times that she'd never be in this situation again. _Ever._ When she was a teenager, she swore she knew pain because of all she'd been through with her dad. One thing she's used to is the feeling of someone leaving. But god, she'd never felt her heart break like it did the day _he_ left her, and then again on the day she left him.

Fuck, all they're good for is leaving each other.

Because it's them.

.


End file.
